Collide (AU)
by IMakeTheMonsters
Summary: He had the worst luck of any guy she had ever met. She had the sweetest smile he had ever seen. After all, it was only a matter of time before their fates would collide.


_**I finally finished my entry for day 1 of Zervis week. Lmk what you think! (Btw, I'm not doing the other days because I have no time *sobs*)**_

It was 7am on a Tuesday morning, much too early for anyone to really be awake. At least, that's the way it worked in the small, suburban town of Acalypha.

Cana, sitting in the corner of a small cafe, was utterly bored out of her mind. You see, Acalypha might've been a district inexpensive enough that even she could afford a sizable apartment (being a part-time bartender, she didn't exactly have the most reliable source of income), but it did absolutely _nothing_ for her in terms of entertainment. She _liked_ excitement, and she liked things to happen.

So when something did happen, she couldn't help but sit up straight and stare in awe at the comical sight before her. In a quiet, laid-back town like this, the only exceptions to what Cana referred to as "the ghost town rule" would be if there was either a murderer on the loose, or if an outsider was passing through on their way to Magnolia, the next city over. Judging by the bloodcurdling scream that seemed to shake the town on its very foundations and the seething waitress that was now covered in coffee stains on the other side of the room, Cana decided that it was safe to assume the latter.

The traveler, in a long black cloak topped with a messy head of raven hair, stood in frozen horror at the scene he had inadvertently created; the now-empty coffee cup still in hand as the furious waitress shouted obscenities at the poor man. He backed away slowly, setting $50 on the closest table (to cover the dry-cleaning bill, Cana guessed), and the second the other woman had turned away to grab a napkin, he turned on his heel and fled out the door as fast as he could. When Cana, now bored, left the café 20 minutes later, the waitress was still screaming.

*~~0~~~*~~~0~~~*~~~0~~*

The dark-haired traveler was now running as fast as he could down the street, trying to block out the sound of the many curse words that were now being thrown in his direction. In his haste to get away from the café (and the scary lady who worked there), he had accidentally bumped in to 3 people on their way to work – causing them to drop whatever was in their hands, was almost run over _twice_ while crossing the street, and when his cloak snagged on a loose nail as he struggled to regain his composure, knocked over an angry street vendor's cart as he was setting up for the day.

He sighed in relief as he saw a small bookstore peeking out at him from the end of the block. Books were so much easier to deal with than people. They didn't get upset when you knocked over a flower pot, or accidentally dropped your water glass on your way to the kitchen. Books were always there for you in a way that most humans weren't; at least from his experience. He had never known his parents; they had passed away in a mass shooting in Crocus when he was hardly a year old. From then on, he had grown up in the city's orphanage, only to be kicked out onto the streets when he was 18 for accidentally breaking everything he touched. He couldn't _help_ it, he was just unlucky. And thanks to the many hours of ridicule among the orphanage kids (being the youngest, he had always been the easiest target to pick on), he believed that everyone associated with him would also be contaminated with his "curse". So he stayed away from society as much as he could, only venturing back into the quietest towns he could find for food and new reading material every couple of weeks.

He was so busy reminiscing his pathetic childhood, he hardly noticed that he had already reached the end of the block, but a honk from a passing car (that had nearly run him over) snapped him out of his reverie. Raising his head, the man stared up at the old wooden sign that hung above the entrance. In the morning light, he could just make out the faded words: "FAIRY TAIL".

*~~0~~~*~~~0~~~*~~~0~~*

Mavis hummed as she pulled the previously-frozen waffle out of the toaster and, taking a bite, gathered up the stack of books on her kitchen table with her other hand. She then turned out of the kitchen and skipped down the stairs to her favourite place in the whole world, Fairy Tail. Oh, it was just so _convenient_ to live directly above the little bookstore. Her mother, who had previously picked this building out to be a jewelry shop, said that living in the small apartment upstairs would be much more efficient than having to walk several blocks to work every morning. As usual, her mother had been right. Mavis could still remember waking up to the happy jingle of doorbells and the bright, cheerful voices of her mother's customers.

 _Of course, that had been before the accident, when her parents had been killed in a terrible car crash on their way back from a beads convention in Magnolia. She didn't know the full details, and no one had ever offered them to her, seeing as she had only been 15 at the time. Shortly after the crash, the police had shown up at her door telling her that, as a minor, it was illegal for her to live on her own, and she needed to pack her things and move in with her aunt in Hargeon. She was too numb to protest, stuffing whatever she could think of into the one large suitcase she was provided and boarding the train to her new home. She tried to be gracious, as her mother would have wanted her to, and did as well as she could in school, as her father always used to demand. No matter how depressed she was on the inside, she was always so outwardly cheerful it made everyone around her smile, and she built many strong friendships over the course of the years. This made it impossible for her aunt to say no when, on her sixteenth birthday, Mavis Vermillion asked for the only thing she would ever request in the next 3 years: That she could inherit her late mother's jewelry shop when she turned 18._

 _True to her word, her aunt handed over the keys to the building on her 18_ _th_ _birthday, only saying, "They would've been so proud of you." Mavis hugged her tight, promising to visit whenever she could, and by the next weekend, was already settling down in her new (or old) home. Knowing she had never had the same prowess as her mother did with jewelry, she combined her old memories with her new love: she turned it into a bookstore and named it after the one question her father (the philosopher) had never been able to answer_ _._

Of course, living in a quiet town like Acalypha all by herself was a little lonely sometimes. So she entertained herself now and then with whatever was happening outside the windows. It was always particularly interesting when travelers were passing through, although it was rare that any of them cared enough about literature to actually enter her store. But it was enough just to watch; she could always tell her friends in Hargeon about it the next time she visited.

 _She had no idea just how interesting that day would become._

*~~0~~~*~~~0~~~*~~~0~~*

Mavis sat on the window seat that faced outwards, onto the now-busy street. Something was happening, she could tell. There must be a visitor; because that was the only possible explanation for the uproar that now disturbed the once-peaceful streets. Turning her head in the direction of a particularly loud honk, she saw a man running towards the bookstore, black cloak flying behind him in his haste to escape the angry shouting that followed. The whole thing was so comical; she couldn't help but giggle at the scene. Her giggling was cut short, however, when she caught sight of the man's face. He had scruffy raven hair that seemed undeniably soft, and strong, chiseled features that could be rivaled with those of Adonis. What really drew her in, though, were his eyes. She had never seen such cold eyes before. They matched his expression: cold, empty, and filled with regret. His eyes were full of every emotion she had ever buried deep down inside her after her parent's death, hoping they would never resurface.

There was something else in there too: fear. It was a type of fear only known to those who had lost too much, those who had lain in bed at night, unable to sleep for the terror that shook them to the core. Yes, Mavis could relate.

The man finally reached her doorstep and, glancing up at the sign, proceeded to reach for the doorknob. It was then and there that Mavis made up her mind: she would befriend this man, this survivor, and she would take away a little bit of the fear in his eyes. She would be for him what she herself had never had.

 _ **There you go! I told you it'd be up soon, didn't I? This was my first time writing for Zervis. How did I do? Drop me a review in the box below ;D**_

 _ **See you all soon**_

 _ **Lotsa love,**_

 _ **Tiffany, out**_


End file.
